Knock 'Em Dead
by nowherenew
Summary: Even after Matt is killed by Takada's bodyguards, he can't get Mello out of his mind. He reminisces about Wammy's, the Kira case, his whole life. He thinks about how much he truly loved Mello and how Mello loved him. All he wants is one more moment. MxM
1. Gone

**A/N: PLEASE READ THIS. :3**

**Hey there! Death Note oneshot. Whee. I love Death Note, and I love Death Note yaoi and shonen-ai even more. MxM, yum. But sadly, to start off my DN fanfix, it's a sad one. But it's very cute. But still sad. **

**&&**

**This is a story from Matt's point of view after he's killed by Takada's bodyguards. Even in death, he can't stop thinking of Mello. He thinks of his regrets in some areas, and the lack thereof in others. These are his memories, feelings and innermost thoughts about Mello, himself, Wammy's, and everything he's been through in his life. **

**WARNING: Character death, sexual instances, sexual references, drug references(?[Matt's smoking. Cigarettes are kindasortamaybe drugs, yes'm?]) underage sex, violence, language**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. **

I had never meant to leave you.

I thought it would all go according to plan. I thought I'd get out of the car, they'd take me hostage, and ask me tons of questions about you and our investigation and all that stupid stuff they ask hostages. I thought you'd come in, shoot them all to death and then shoot them some more, and rescue me in that leather of yours. We'd ride off into the sunset on your badass motorcycle, and then fuck until dawn, and everything would be better again.

I didn't mean to let you down. I've let down a bunch of people in life, but I could never stand hurting you or displeasing you.

Never you, Mel.

I didn't know they'd shoot 34 bullets into me, that I'd die cold and alone. I didn't know. Do you remember that book To Kill A Mockingbird, that one that we read at Wammy's in.... I think it was fourth or fifth grade.... for our Basic Literature Analysis class? Well, you know how Tom Robinson got shot seventeen times in prison, even though that many bullets were far from necessary—plus he was innocent? Well, I got twice as much as he did. So I'm twice as innocent as that punk.

Sorry, Mells. I didn't want to leave you. I swear if I could go take it back right now, I would. I never cared about Kira, to tell you the truth. I only wanted in on this bullshit because you wanted me back. When you left Wammy's all those years ago I thought I was going to hang myself. I couldn't live without you, Mel. You don't understand. Even at sixteen, I would rather die than live without you. I did die, but it wasn't for Kira, Mello. It was all for you. I wouldn't do any of this shit if you didn't ask me to.

I know it makes me sound like a right prick, but seriously, Mel, why the bloody hell did you do this? If you didn't care so damn much about Near and beating that little kid in the Kira case, this wouldn't be happening. We'd probably be somewhere in England, living in an apartment. I'd be a computer tech, and you'd be in the mafia or have a gun shop or something like that. And we'd have dinner together when we could, and I'd come visit you when we couldn't. I'd love you to bits, and you'd love me back, and we'd grow old with each other and we'd be happy and safe. We'd fuck in the shower when we couldn't reach the bed, and I'd bake you a cake for your birthday and it'd be pure chocolate.

Do you remember when we first met? When I first fell in love with you? All those times we snuck around Wammy's after dark? Remember our first kiss? Do you remember every touch, every sigh, every cuddle? Every thought? Do you think of me even now? Do you remember how we loved each other?

I remember, Mel. I remember everything.

I remember at Wammy's, when I first met you. It was a rainy day, remember? It was rainy and gross, and until you got there I was second, even though I didn't really care about this whole L thing. I didn't even care when I was six years old. Roger had told Near and I that he was picking up a kid from Russia from the airport. Near and I didn't think much of this at the time. He went back to his toys, and I went back to my game.

When Roger came back, Near didn't come down to see. Even though Roger'd told us that you were a smart kid and that you'd give us competition, Near was too vain to think about it. I wanted to see who this kid was. New kids came all the time, but you were the first one Roger actually told us about. I knew that Roger would take you to the dining hall first, he tended to do that with new kids. I still don't know why, and I doubt I ever will. I'm fucking dead now, not much leeway to ask him why, you know?

Well anyway, I skipped my Foreign Diplomacy class—I had an A in it anyway, what could one day do?—to go see you. I waited until Roger had left to sneak in, and you just looked at me, and I stared back. You had perfectly cut blonde hair, in that cute little bob you always managed to keep either immaculately straight and clean-cut or sexily messy. I didn't feel love or physical attraction to you then—I was six years old, even I'm not that messed up—but I didn't want anything more than to be your friend. Even then, just when I was looking at you and you were looking at me, your mouth half-full of food, not saying anything, you still had that presence. You've always had a certain pull, Mel. Always. I can't resist you for my life, Mello.

You know it, too. And damned if I don't acknowledge that you used it to your own advantage. You use everything to your advantage, though, so I guess it's a Mello thing. Anyway, back to Wammy's fourteen years ago... I just wanted to be with you from that moment on, but I knew I had to say something first, otherwise I'd just come off as a right retard, and that'd be just a let down. So I did just that. I spoke up.

"Hey," I'd said, possibly the most eloquent thing my mind could think of at the moment.

"Hallo," you'd replied, your voice thick with accent. Or maybe with the food in your mouth. Now I'll never know.

"Are you Mihael?"

You'd swallowed by then, and I watched the food slide down your throat. Now, as I remember that, I think it looks like how you do... did... when you swallowed my cum. Damn, Mel, you could suck cock. Your blowjobs are almost as good as when you take me, Mel. I fucking love you so damn much, I can't even let it go when I'm dead. You swallowed and I just waited for a reply, too young to know I'd eventually be thinking about your food ingestion in such a way. You nodded, and said to me, "Yah, that's me. I mean, Mihael's my real name. But the man who brought me here told me that I should go by 'Mello' from now on. What's your name?"

"I'm Matt, but my real name is Mail."

"That's cool." You abandoned your food and came over to me. "How old are you?"

"I'm six and a half," I replied, eager to make a friend in you. Near wasn't much of a friend. We talked, I mean, but it was pretty dull. The kid was a pretty egotistical jerk who was obsessed with toys, puzzles and becoming L. So that made friendships kind of tough.

"I'm turning seven in a few weeks," you said.

I smiled at you and responded cheerily, "Happy early Birthday then!"

"Thanks." You smiled back at me, your blue eyes sparkling with happiness. I decided to give you something I'd gotten from one of the kitchen staff on my way over. They'd given me a bar of Cadbury's chocolate. I always helped out the kitchen staff whenever I could with cleaning up plates and putting them in piles after meals. They gave me candy sometimes, but I helped just because I felt like helping. So I reached into my pocket and pulled out the candy bar, holding it out to you. Your eyes shone unbelievably and I giggled a bit. You snatched the chocolate and unwrapped it, snapping a piece off with your canines and wolfing it down within seconds. You murmured a "thank you" and I knew it from that moment on. The deal was sealed.

We were best friends.

From that moment on, we were a package. We'd sit next to each other in the classes we had together, eat lunch together, spend time in each others' rooms, study together, and play pranks together. I spent every moment with you, even if we weren't talking, we would hang out. Me on my Gameboy, you writing or studying or eating chocolate. Nobody could even remember what it was like with just me. All they could remember was the two of us. We were a team. Mello and Matt. Matt and Mello.

After only a week, you ranked second. You were ecstatic. When you almost came bouncing into my room, chattering endlessly about how you were so happy and this was the best thing that ever happened to you, I smiled and nodded. But then you realized you took my place and apologized profusely, only for me to wave it away, telling you that I didn't care about becoming L, and that I had every intention to just let grades be what they were and not to focus on them.

Remember that? I do. I remember every little thing you said, every movement of your eyes, everything. I loved you even then, Mel. I just didn't know it yet.

"Matt! Matt! Matt! Guess what, guess what I just saw!!" Your voice was high-pitched, your squeals making me laugh as I looked up from my Gameboy Advance. You almost tripped over your own feet as you dashed into my room, grinning wildly.

Not closing my game but pausing it instead, I looked up at you, your hair tousled from god knows what. You were rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet, looking like Christmas had come early and Roger had given you the Ghirardelli chocolate factory. I couldn't help but giggle at the sight of you so excited. "What, Mello?"

"I just saw the student ranking sheet and I'm second!! Second! It's so cool, I'm so excited! I never knew I could make it, but I guess my studying paid off! I can't wait until next month's rankings are posted, because I want to be first next time! Oh, this is so cool! Right, Matt? Right?" Once your mouth opened, it shot away and started jabbering on and on and on. Not that I minded. Your voice was like bells to me, Mello. It still is.

"Awesome," I replied, smiling up at you. "That's really great! I knew you were something, Mel." I didn't care about the rankings, but I knew I was third now. I could be first if I wanted, but it was just too much work and effort. I didn't care enough to try my best in my classes.

Your smile lasted a moment longer before your face turned downwards into a guilty pout. I sighed, knowing that you had remembered that I was third now rather than second. You brought a hand up to your face, chewing on your nails nervously. "M-Matt, I... I'm sorry I took your place and all..."

I held up a hand, shaking my head. "Don't apologize. Unlike you and Near, I frankly don't give a care in the world for school. I'm really happy for you, Mello, I swear. I don't care that I'm third now. If anything, I'm grateful. Now I don't have to listen to L talk for hours on stuff I don't want to hear. I don't want to be L; I shouldn't have been second in the first place. You deserve it, man." I looked up at you, and I could tell that you knew I was serious, but you still felt bad.

"I.... I'm still sorry, Matt. I didn't—"

"Mello. Relax. I want you to be second. I don't care at all, Mello. I'm happy for you, believe me. You deserve it. Just let it go, man. It's okay." I ran a hand through my hair.

You opened your mouth as if to carry on with your words, but a moment passed and you sighed. "Okay," you muttered, sitting on the floor to my right. Mere inches held us apart, and then those inches became singular, and then nothing. You leaned on me and watched me play for half an hour before falling asleep. I didn't even realize you were sleeping until you murmured something unintelligible against my shoulder. I looked at you for a moment before smiling to myself and continuing my game.

You were warm, Mello. You wouldn't remember that, but I do. I hold that memory close, Mel. You were almost seven, I was six and a half, and you were sleeping on my shoulder. I'm pretty sure I thought of that day at least once a day when I was alive. You were so fragile back then, before you became chaos itself. Not that you're better or worse now, but I treasure those memories of you as a delicate little kid. I don't think I'll ever forget those days.

I love everything about you, Mel. I love your spontaneity, your fierceness, your dominating attitude, your swearing; I love you in all your entirety. You're chaotic, profane, and bossy, but I like you that way. I remember when you became like you are now, but I can't remember a transition, so it must have been gradual. I was eleven, you were twelve. You started acting out in class, forcing attention to you. You still got good grades, but you were quite the little rebel. In fact, I realized I love you soon after you went through that change.

It was January 6th, 2001. Come to think of it, today's January 26, 2009. That's twenty days apart, and we're twenty two. Nine minus two is seven, which is one away from six, and from there we can get 1-6-01 from the one and six. Oh, fuck it. I was always a math nerd, just don't listen to my shittalk. Anyway, all those years ago, I figured that I loved you with all my heart and soul, Mello. I've loved you since I was eleven. It was a snowy day, and we were outside making snowmen and having snowball fights with the other kids. I got frostbite that day. Do you remember that, Mel? Well, I was having too much fun to realize it until you told me later. I was too caught up in you.

You were the one who dragged me out in the snow, anyway.

"Come ON, Matty, all you do is sit there and play video games! You need a real childhood, dude!" You were tugging on my shirt, whining and pouting at me. "Let's just go out and have some fun, Matt. I promise you'll be glad I brought you, I swear! You'll have fun! Please come with me!"

I looked up from my Gameboy, sighing. I knew that you wouldn't leave me alone until I'd gone outside and rolled around in the snow until I became an icicle. I stared into your cerulean orbs, pulling the goggles over my eyes down so they were around my neck. "Fine, Mel, I'll go outside. But only because you said 'please.' You never say that anymore. So I'll go, but not for lon—"

You pounced on me, snaking your pale arms around my waist, burying your face in my chest. "Yay! Thank you, Matt! Let's go, come on, come on!" You skipped over to my closet, opening it and getting my heavy coat, tossing it at me. Your childish excitement was gone, and you were back to your bossy, egotistical self. "Put that on, hurry up."

I was content to be with you, no matter how you acted. You were my best friend, so I cared about you no matter how temperamental or rude you got. I'd always be with you, circumstances aside. I slipped into the jacket and followed you down the stairs, since you'd already donned a coat. We pushed open the doors to the outside and I was amazed at the beauty I saw. There was a white blanket over the usually green grounds. The snow also adorned trees and the benches along the stone fence which marked the boundary lines of Wammy's backyard. Beyond the backyard, the shooting range was also coated in the powdery white snow.

You pulled on my hand, and I had no memory of you ever grabbing it, but I just followed you, happy to be pulled along as we ran across the yard, laughing at nothing at all. We made snow angels and ate snow, and soon enough, the yard was full of the other kids. After about twenty kids populated the yard, you announced a snowball fight. We somehow arranged ourselves into teams, but the other kids insisted that we couldn't be on the same team since we were too much danger together. You grudgingly changed teams, but they gave you the glory of being captain, so you cheered up rather quickly.

Before I knew it, you had hit me right in the face. I glared at you, smiling, and shot a snowball right back at you. The force of it sent you backwards, and I immediately ran t your side. "Mel, are you okay? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you—"

You sprang into action and rolled me over, pinning me to the ground. Your knees were on either sides of my legs, your gloved hands next to my ears. I looked up at you, not saying anything, just in shock. I remember my face growing hot, and I saw your face coloring as well. Neither of us moved. We seemed to stay there forever, until a voice interrupted our moment.

"Hey everyone! Look, Mello and Matt are getting it on!"

Your face went from pink to red, and you shot up, screaming profanities at the kid who'd dared to say something like that. He ended up with a black eye, and I ended up with a realization that only I would realize at the delicate age of eleven.

I loved you.

It was obvious. Even at eleven, I knew from reading books that when you were in love, you never wanted to be away from the one you loved, and you'd do anything for them, and that you felt twisting and turning in your stomach when they were around or when you thought of them. All of those symptoms, and more, applied to me. I had finally realized that I loved you more than anything in the world. All I wanted was for you to feel the same. But there was one problem.

In all those books I'd read, there was a girl and a boy. Not two boys. What if you weren't like me? That thought had ripped me up into little pieces. When we'd gone back inside and parted ways for hot showers in our own rooms, I thought about what I'd figured out, and how to tell you. But the fear that you liked girls overwhelmed the need to let you know. I didn't want to lose you as a friend. I'd first sacrifice my organs to a demon cow than lose your friendship. So it took a while for me to own up and tell you.

About a year, in fact.

When I finally got the nerve to tell you about how I felt, I was weeks away from thirteen, and you were thirteen and a half. To be exact, it was May 25, 2002. I'd been through puberty in at least some way, since I'd had romantic feelings towards you at eleven, but by this time, I'd grown physically. I was taller and broader than you—but it'd always been that way—and you had too. You were still small, but your ego made up for it, big time. And with becoming teenagers, you insisted that we do "teenager" things. Such as jacking off.

Together.

Of course, I was too stupid to think of it as the golden opportunity as it was. I thought it'd be embarrassing and awkward. For some reason, I got it into my head that you'd find out that the scantily-clad girls in the magazines weren't the reason for my boners, but you were. You and your beautiful blonde hair, your captivating blue eyes, your deliciously creamy skin, your enticing erection—even the way you stimulated said hard-on. It all made me want to explode, thinking I couldn't have you.

But then one sunny day after our Honors Geometry class, I gathered my self-esteem, my courage, and my love for you, and grabbed your wrist as you made to leave the room.

Remember, Mello?

"Wait," I said, my voice quiet and raspy from my anxiety. I had waited years to say this, I wasn't going to let it go now. I cleared my throat and repeated myself, clearly this time. "Just wait a minute."

"What is it, Matt? I need to use our free period to study for my History of Espionage class." You frowned, tapping your foot impatiently. As always, it had to go your way.

I nodded. "I know, man. Just wait a sec. I need to tell you something."

You sighed and nodded. The teacher packed up and asked us to make it quick, since we weren't supposed to be here without permission, but with a heartfelt gaze from me, she sighed and shook her head. Giving us permission to use the room for as long as we need, she left the classroom, shutting the door behind her.

You looked at me. "Come on, then. Spit it out, yeah?"

Your pressuring me wasn't doing anything for my motivation, I'll tell you that much. I began to breathe quickly and shallowly, and I bit my lip, holding up a finger. "One.... one sec, Mel. I really need to tell you this. Just wait a minute."

You nodded, concern flashing in your eyes briefly before disappearing. It took me a little while to calm down, but when I did, I was even more determined to tell you how I felt. I looked at you with seriousness in my eyes, and your face sobered. You knew to listen to me when I wanted to be listened to. "Mello. Mihael. I.... I've wanted to tell you this for a long time. You're my best friend, Mel, and I care about you more than anything else. But... I realized a while ago that I didn't only care about you as my friend. I love you, Mello, and I have since I was eleven. I love you more than anything in the entire world, even myself. I don't want to live without you by my side, Mel."

You were silent, your jaw slack. I felt a sickening pang of worry; I knew at that moment that you were straight and that you never wanted anything to do with a lowly fag such as myself. You were going to slap me and yell at me and never talk to me again. But when you stepped towards me and I cringed, closing my eyes and steeling myself for the blows, I only felt a warm hand on my face. Opening my eyes, I looked into your blue ones, surprised. On your face was a look of amazement, adoration, and happiness, but there was also sadness in your expression. I knew it was because I'd thought you would hurt me, so I wiped all fear from my face and replaced it with my relief that your expression was far from angry.

Before I could think, you'd smashed your mouth against mine, earning a gasp from me. You slid an arm around my waist, pulling me close to you as you kissed me. You didn't try to use your tongue, you just moved your lips against mine chastely. After a second of realizing what you'd done, I kissed back, throwing my arms around you. I felt overwhelmed with happiness by the way you reacted, so much that I could hardly think straight, but I wasn't going to complain. This was all I wanted, all I could ever hope for.

I remember feeling your mouth turn upwards into a smile just mere seconds before you pulled away, your lips lingering centimeters away from my own. I leaned forwards for another light kiss, and you complied, giving me what I'd been longing for. After three swift mini-kisses, you placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, holding me back. "Matty, I'm glad you told me that. I really am. I feel things for you that I can't explain or describe, but I want to be more than friends with you. But here is not the place, and now is not the time. I need to study." Landing a kiss on my nose, you slid your hand down my arm from my shoulder and gripped my hand. "Come with me?"

"Always," I replied, grinning. I snatched my goggles out of my pocket and pulled them over my head, but setting the eyes on my forehead rather than over my eyes. You led me out of the classroom and I knew that this was the start of something I never wanted to end.

It was a seamless transition. Everybody knew about it, even before we did, but nobody dared tease you. They knew you would kick their tails all the way to Vancouver if they said even one word about us being gay. Mostly, everybody just accepted it. No one complained when we would hold hands all over the place, and the teachers would look at us in annoyance when I'd kiss you on the cheek in class, but they knew there was nothing they could do about it. Of course, one time when we were making out in an empty classroom, Roger found us with my tongue in your mouth and your hands under my shirt. We got in trouble for "being reckless about our affection and where we choose to express that affection."

Needless to say, we went right back there the next day.

After we were together for about a year, things between us got a little more mature. When we made out, your hands would go all over me, and I would like it. We'd start removing shirts during our private time, grinding our hips up against one another. You'd hold me down and lick my chest, caressing parts of my body through my pants that only I'd ever touched. I liked feeling dominated by you. It made me excited, and in more ways than one.

My hormones were out of control, as were yours. We were fourteen, what can you do? We both knew enough about the world to know about sex between two men as well as a man and a woman, so we couldn't help wanting it. At night, I'd whack off to thoughts of you pounding me into the mattress, mashing my insides into applesauce. I even fingered myself once to images of you. You have no idea how much I wanted you, Mel. I tried to tell you later on, but I couldn't even describe how much I dreamed of you. I know you wanted me too, but I was about to explode, Mells. I wanted so badly to feel your warm hands on me, to feel your cock sheathed in my ass, to ride you and fuck you like there was no tomorrow. I needed you, Mel.

Remember when we first had sex? I do.

We were on a beach trip with the rest of Wammy's. Of course, the water was cold, but we were a bunch of kids kept inside for most of their time, and almost all of us had never even seen a beach before. So obviously, we went in anyway. You were the first one in. As soon as we got there, you ripped your shirt off (this was before you discovered the wonders of leather), your pants following suit. You threw both articles of clothing onto my towel and ran into the water, laughing like a boy possessed.

In Speedos.

Needless to say, I soon followed. Tackling you by jumping onto your back, I wrapped my legs around your waist and my arms around your neck. I remember nipping the shell of your ear and murmuring, "Gotcha."

You pulled my hand up to your mouth and kissed my palm gently. "I'm madly in like with you, Matty."

"I'm glad we're seeing some emotional improvement, Mel." I chuckled and buried my face in the back of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of the strawberry shampoo and conditioner you still use even now. I just wanted to be near you, to be on you, with you, above you, below you, all around you. Around everything I loved and wanted, everything I gave myself to without complaint or hesitation.

By five minutes into the trip, almost every Wammy's kid was in the water. Near wasn't even on the trip, because his lack of pigmentation made him very susceptible to sickness if he was outside. With him not there, just about every child attending Wammy's was in the water. Some teachers were hanging around, but they knew that we all knew how to swim. The kids too small to swim went on a separate field trip. We spent at least twenty minutes in the water, splashing and laughing and holding hands. It eventually turned into light petting, but you held me away. You muttered in my ear, "Let's separate ourselves, yeah? Come on, let's go to those caves down there." You pointed to some caves a little ways down the beach. They were secluded and private.

"But.... the teachers..."

"They won't notice, Matty. Come on, let's just go." You grabbed my arm and pulled me over towards the caves. Just as you said, the teachers didn't notice a thing. A ten minute walk and we were by the caves. Before I could say anything, you had my back up against the rock, your knee between my legs. Your thigh pushed up against my nether-regions harshly. I let out a yelp, biting my lip and looking into your blue eyes with my own hazy green.

You smirked and pressed your lips against mine, shoving your tongue into my mouth. I retaliated, following the wet muscle with mine. You ran along the inside of my cheek with that addicting tongue of yours, and I whimpered. I hoped beyond anything I'd hoped before that you weren't just going to make out with me. I wanted it so badly, I couldn't think of anything else at that moment.

I needed you, Mel. I always have.

"M-Mello.... M-Mel... pl-please..."

You smirked, moving down to my neck with a trail of light pecks down my chin and onto my jugular. You nibbled and sucked on my collarbone. You mumbled against my skin, "Yeah, Matty?"

"M-Mells, I'm sick of this... ahn.... teasing," I managed to groan. "I... I need you, Mel. Not part of you, _all _of you, Mel. I want..." I bit my lip, embarrassed to have to say these wanton things. But the look on your face told me I'd need to say things that made me uncomfortable. You looked like an animal, Mello. God, it turned me on.

"What do you want, Matty? Tell me what you want, baby. Tell me exactly... what... you... need," he said, permeating each space between the words with a lick to my jaw.

"Aaah.... I... I want to.... I want to feel your body... on t-top of mine...." My face's color gave award-winning tomatoes a run for their blue ribbons. "I want to hear you breathing as you make love to me, Mel.... I w-want you so badly, Mel.... I need you.... please...."

"Now, who could resist that kind of pleading?" You smiled at me, gently caressing my face with the back of your hand. Before I could reply, you placed both hands on my chest and gave me a single shove so I went sprawling into the cave. You jumped on me and straddled me just like you'd done that one time in the snow. I sported a hard-on by then, but I don't remember when it began. I noticed when you slammed your hips down onto my own, your groin was just as hard as mine.

You had tugged down my swimming trunks without hesitation, and I returned the favor. I pulled you down on top of me, chest to chest. I started attacking your jaw and neck, fervently kissing and suckling on your pale skin. "I love you," I said. Sliding my hands down to your length and wrapping a lithe hand around the throbbing flesh, I sighed, smiling uncontrollably. "I love you, Mihael. Mihael Keehl. I love you, M."

You seemed taken aback at this, biting your lip. You sat up, not completely of course, but our bodies weren't pressed to each other anymore. "Matty.... I..."

I'm sorry, Mel. I'm so sorry. I'd pushed you out of your comfort zone, Mel. I'm sorry.

"Mel?" I looked up at you, nervousness in my eyes.

"Matty, I.... I lo-lov....." You paused, then tears bubbled to the surface of your eyes and you cried out, "I love you too, baby. I do, Matt. I can't fucking live without you, man, I need you with me through everything. You can't leave me, Matty. Don't you fucking dare leave me, babe. Say you'll be with me forever, Matty. Tell me you need me, that you'll never ever let me go."

I nodded, reaching up and hugging you tight to myself. I could feel your heartbeat against my chest, and I knew you could feel the same thing on yours. "I love you, Mel. I'll be with you forever, I promise. I need you so much it hurts, and I would die before I let you go."

At least the second of those two promises were kept.

You nodded and quickly wiped your tears before shoving two watery fingers up my ass. You pushed my legs up so that my thighs rested against your chest, my knees hooking on your shoulders, and your pulsating manhood was so damn close to my ass I was about to scream in frustration. I guess fourteen year old Mello was just as touchy about your emotions as you've always been. You're a roller coaster, you know? Crying one minute, stretching me cautiously but roughly the next. You're the best damn ride I've been on. The only one I'll ever want.

I moaned out loudly, wanton and greedy for more bodily contact. I resisted the urge to whimper "I love you" over and over as you scissored your fingers in an attempt to patiently ready me for what we both knew was going to tear my insides apart, since you weren't the gentle type and I wasn't—never was—the "just sit still and hold on for your hot piece of ass boyfriend to pound the sense out of you" type. I shook my head, grabbing your hand. "Just do it, Mel," I said, looking up into your eyes seriously.

And damn, you did.

The way you just spat on your hand, rubbed your length and shoved right in made me scream. I remember it so well. I screamed my little throat out, new to this feeling but wanting so much more as soon as possible. My premature slutty needs notwithstanding, it still hurt like a bitch. You can be described as a lot of things, Mel, but ill-equipped is definitely NOT one. You're fucking huge, Mel. I felt like a dumpster had been shoved up my ass. Your dick was practically the size of a fucking garbage truck, how could I not get upset?

"M-Mel, Mel, it's too big, s-stop, it won't fit, Mel, Mel, please, it fucking hurts...." I squeezed my eyes shut, tears pushing out of them violently. "Mel, it fucking hurts, pull out, damn it! Fuck, fuck, FUCK!"

"Shhhh, shh, Matty, it's okay, I promise it won't hurt for long. Just relax, baby. It'll hurt a lot more with you all tensed up like you are now," you said, littering soft kisses on my face and neck. I wonder if you did that because you loved me, or because you wanted sex. I know that's stupid, but you were a hormonal teenager, after all. It was probably both.

I whimpered, but I believed you and I relaxed as much as my speared behind would allow. Holding still and trying to breathe normally with closed eyes was actually helping more than I'd anticipated. "O-okay," I stammered, blushing madly and still in pain, but not nearly as much. I just felt like I was getting stabbed in the ass now instead of feeling ripped apart. "M-move, Mel. P-please."

You nodded and gently rocked into me, taking a few deep pants as you tried to ease my pain. I whined and you stopped, but I wriggled my hips to try and get you to move again. "Mel," I groaned.

You hesitated for a moment, then bit your lip. "Matty, hold on a minute. Don't scream, baby, please." With that being said, you positioned your hips and I could see you praying for success as you slammed dead-on into something I didn't even know existed at the time, and I cried out in supreme pleasure. "M-Muh-MELLLOO!"

Your eyes widened and you pressed a finger to your lips. "Shhh! These damned caves echo, the others will hear us!" despite your words, you continued to move yourself so the tip of your cock was just brushing against that bundle of nerves.

"We're too... ahh.... f-far away, Mel.... nngh...." My inexperience made the breathtaking pleasure all the more intense. You rocked into me particularly roughly at one point and I yelped in the tingling sense in my butt and the heat rushing up my spine. I felt like something was pouring cooled magma onto my back, too cold to burn me but too hot for me to be completely comfortable. Nonetheless, I felt the extreme pleasure and wanted to stop time, to feel this way forever and for all of eternity.

You kept pounding into me, and I felt my body jerk at each thrust. I cried out and arched my back reflexively, keeping the top of my head on the rock floor. "Nngh, ahh.... annh, Mel. M-Mello..... _Mello,_" I cried, feeling heat pool in my groin.

You grunted in response, shoving your length onto my prostate again. "Hnn, Matty...."

I could feel the precum dribbling down the sides of my shaft and I let go, feeling the rush of orgasm flush down my back. ­"I l-haaahhh-ove y-youu!" My cum splattered onto our stomachs. I then fell limp, my energy fully and completely gone. I was amazed, but not surprised, that you could make me orgasm without even touching my cock. I knew you could do it.

"Ahhgnnn, MATT," you yelled, still pounding into me roughly. I could feel the light fluttering in my stomach as your liquids purged my insides. You fell on top of me, panting heavily.

"I love you," I gasp lightly, "Mihael, Mihael. Beautiful, gorgeous, passionate Mello. Angry, rebellious, frustrated Mello. Beautiful, beautiful Mihael." I ran my hand through your impossibly soft locks, bringing a hand to your cheek and kissing your lips softly.

We dressed ourselves in our swimsuits and left the caves, making sure to wash the scent of sex off our bodies in the saltwater as we went back to the group, pretending we never left. We went back to Wammy's and you held me in your arms that night, sneaking out of your room to come to mine. We shared a bed for the first time, and before I went to sleep you squeezed my hand and brought your free hand up to curl around the side of my neck. You pulled my head close to your lips and whispered against my ear, "Happy fifteenth."

I'd forgotten it was my birthday.

I love June.

Mel, why did you have to go and kidnap Takada? Damn bodyguards. I swear to you, Mello, if they kill you too I'll find out from L who Kira is and I'll haunt that motherfucker until he begs for mercy. If a dead man could cry, Mihael, I'd be sobbing. I'd be sobbing my fucking soul out, Mello. I need you. I can't live without you. Well, I'm not alive anymore, but I still exist for some reason. I can't even fucking EXIST without you, Mello. Please tell me this is some sort of dream, that I'll wake up in your arms and that none of this actually happened. Kira won't exist, Near would be second and you first, and we'd be alone. We'd be untouched by the outside world.

But we can never be that way. We never have been able to be isolated from the world. Even at Wammy's, we knew certain things. Not many, not many things at all. But they did tell us a few things. Things that had to do with Mr. Wammy or L or important cases in the world to be used in our classes. But really, only a few tidbits of information leaked through to Wammy's Orphanage. But there was one that changed our lives. One piece of news that I wish I could have stopped. I wish I could have stopped Roger from saying it, especially to you. God, Mello, you broke my heart that day. It was two months after the anniversary of when I fell for you. Two days away from the anniversary of our meeting. I was going to surprise you with something; I hadn't even planned it yet at the time. But it was too late by the time that anniversary passed.

You'd disappeared after the urgent assembly call. Roger had insisted that every student and staff member come to the dining hall during our second class. All Wammy's attendees and teachers shuffled towards the dining room. You and I walked close together, as always. I hand hooked my elbow with yours and held your hand in mine, smiling. "Mello, I love you," I muttered. I didn't ever admit this to you, but I said that because I felt something big was going to happen. I wanted to be with you if I was right.

Upon entering the dining hall, we all saw Roger standing at the front of the hall, looking very grave. We all found seats and he announced, "This may come to a shock for most of you. In fact, there are very few people in the entire world who will not be affected in some way by this news; though you all will probably be the most wounded. It pains me to have to say these words, but I cannot hide something like this from you all."

At that, I reached over and grabbed your hand, squeezing it. I looked into your cerulean eyes and leaned on you, whispering in your ear things like "I love you so much" and "Mihael, my lovely Mihael." You ran your thumb along my fingers, but you were listening intently to Roger, not daring to think the worst. Unfortunately, you didn't have to.

"L is dead."

A great silence filled the room. Before, there was relative quiet, but the whispers of hushed theories and guesses had resonated against the ears of everyone. Now, there was silence. It was as if someone pressed a mute button. Jaws dropped, faces fell into hands, tears pricked the eyes of some, but it was all in a brutal stillness. I felt your hand slide from mine. You were the first sound to meet the whole of Wammy's dining room in a painful minute and a half as you surged up from your chair, the noise of it clattering to the floor sending a shudder through me. All I wanted was you back in my arms.

"LIAR!" Your face was full of fury. I don't think I'd ever seen you that mad. I bit my lip, resisting the urge to grab your hand again. You'd go crazy. "YOU'RE A FUCKING LIAR!"

"Mello, please calm down—"

"THE FUCK I WILL! YOU DAMN WELL BETTER TELL EVERYONE IN THIS ROOM THAT YOU WERE PLAYING SOME SHITTING SICK JOKE ON US!!" I could see your eyes shimmering with held back tears. My heart cracked right down the middle at the sight of it. I stood up and wrapped my arms around you, trapping your arms to your sides.

"Mello, Mihael, Mel, please, please stop this. Please, Mel. I love you so much, it hurts to see you like this... Mihael, please, I beg you, don't do this.... don't be angry...." I whimpered into your ear, holding back my own tears.

You just swatted me aside, jerking your body so I fell to the floor on my derriere. You looked at me for a lingering moment, then ran from the room, tears freely running down your face.

That was a few hours ago.

"Mello?" I'd looked all over for you, but you were nowhere to be found. "Mello?! Answer me, come on!" Feeling a huge sense of devastation, I stopped where I stood. It was useless, looking for you. You didn't want to be found. Leaning against the wall, I sniffled. Bringing the inside of my elbow up to my eyes, I blinked out my tears. They wet my sleeve and I let it go, sliding down the wall as I sobbed into my arm. "M-M-Mello," I whimpered, ashamed of my scene. I cried a long time, but then sobered myself and stood once more. Roger. Why didn't I think to ask him where you were earlier? I ambled down the hall to Roger's office and knocked three times, sniffling in my runny nose and wiping my eyes, trying to make myself presentable. I was fifteen, why the fuck was I crying? Well, I loved you too much for my own good, so I guess that was a factor. Also, I felt scared and alone. So yeah, I guess tiny stuff makes me cry.

Roger opened his door, an almost inaudible sigh gracing his lips. He mumbled something that sounded to me like "I knew it" and looked down at me. "Hello Matt. Are you looking for Mello?"

"Y-yes sir," I said, nodding. "Do you know where—"

He held up a hand and I stopped. "Wait here," he said, then closed the door so it was left a crack open. I heard footsteps inside, moving away from me. I assumed they were Roger's. I heard voices, hisses, a rather loud thump, and then stomping. The stomps were headed my way. I bit my lip, hoping that I didn't die within the coming minutes.

Only a short while later, I was praying for the opposite.

You slammed the door open. Roger was nowhere in sight, I noted, when I glanced around the room. He'd probably gone into the extension of his office. I saw you, and I nearly collapsed where I stood.

You were terrifying.

Red, puffy circles around your eyes made my heart weaken a bit. Your disheveled hair, pushed up in the front (probably from holding your face in your hands) brought tears to my eyes. Your hair was your pride, your ego. If your hair was messed up, then there was close to no hope for you, or us. And I didn't want that. I was fifteen and in love, all I wanted was for you to be happy. I moved towards you and you sprang your left hand to my right cheek and your right hand to the left side of my neck. You crashed our lips together and I was shocked. You plundered my mouth with your tongue like there was no tomorrow.

Little did I know, there wasn't a tomorrow.

I had little more than a mere ten seconds to kiss you back, but then you ripped your lips from mine and I saw tears in your eyes. I didn't want you to stop it, so I reached out for you, but you slapped my hand away roughly. "Stop it Matt."

I looked at you in confusion. "M-Mello?"

"This is easier if you hate me, Matt. You can't love me anymore, got it?!" Your face was livid. I had never seen you like this. "Listen closely, Mail Jeevas. I HATE you. I can never, ever love you. Just stop hoping your little stupid hopes. Stop clinging to something that doesn't even EXIST!" You had shoved your face right in front of my own, your vehement words cutting me deeply. You were crying now, and I knew you weren't serious. You couldn't be serious. Right?

I blinked, then forced a hopeful smile onto my face. Please, God, don't let this happen to me. Please. "Mello, who are you trying to fool? You and I both know that—"

I was knocked to the side by the force of a slap to my face. At first, I didn't know where it had come from, since it was beyond anything I could comprehend that my Mello would ever hurt me. But then I saw you and a look of pure disgust was on your face. It didn't occur to me that the disgusted expression was from the fact that you'd hurt me intentionally. "Mail, leave me. Don't ever think that I'm yours or that you're mine. Stay the fuck away from me. Go fuck Near for all I care. I don't need nor want you anymore."

My heart snapped in two.

I ran.

I ran away from Roger's office, sobbing. I turned the corner and stumbled down the hall, unable to hold myself up. I didn't want to live anymore. You'd left me, body and soul, and I didn't want anything more from life. It had lost its appeal. If I couldn't have I wanted to wake up, because this could only be a dream. I half expected the world to start turning Technicolor and big mice to come out and start nibbling on my hair. This had to be a dream. No, a nightmare. The worst, scariest nightmare I'd ever had and ever would have. I was going to wake up and L would be alive, and you would be with me. Holding me, loving me. Owning me.

I ran down the stairs, and the first flight I cleared quite well, seeing as I had almost no vision for my tears obscured my sight; the second flight of stairs was the one I tripped on, and I went plummeting down to the landing below, which was easily two times as long as the first flight. I tumbled over, my nose hitting a step roughly. I felt something shift in my left arm, and a loud crack sent shoots of pain up my left leg. I finally hit the ground with a loud thump, rolling into the wall. The impact of the wall on my back made me cringe. My nose was bleeding, and my ankle and arm were aching terribly.

I curled up into a ball, unable to stop crying. "Mello..... Mello.... Mello.... Mihael.... MIHAEL! MELLO! MELLO! Mel...... Mel..... Mells..... don't..... don't leave..... me....." I lied there for what seemed like eternity. I cried for us, for me, for you, for the world. I cried because I knew you would never love me again. I knew that you never even loved me to begin with. I felt my heart ripping like damp paper. I felt a dull, excruciating ache in my chest, as if someone had jabbed my ribs with a metal pole. I could almost feel an invisible hand reaching into my chest, gripping my heart, and wrenching it right out of my body. I could nearly see that hand squeezing my heart until it burst, and I felt it explode inside me. I wanted to die. Without you, Mel, I had no reason to live. Life held no calling for me, Mello.

But I guess that's not a problem anymore.

I just cried there, my body beaten from the fall on the stairs and my soul broken from those words you'd said. "I love you," I gasped between sobs. "I need you. Don't leave me," I said, my voice dropping to a whisper. "Don't leave me. Don't leave me, don't leave me, Mello. Don't leave me. Don't leave. Please don't. Please. Don't leave me. Please. Please. Please, please don't." I held my knees close to my chest, saying those words over and over and over. Blood was seeping from my body from cuts on my chest, back and arms. My nosebleed had stifled. Before seeing the world turn black and my conscious state withering, I whispered into the floor, a soft prayer, "Please, Mello. Save me."

Then I passed out.

I woke up the next day, in the infirmary. Near had found me on the stairs. Contrary to what I thought, he was actually a pretty nice guy. He was just confident in his academic ability, and despite what I'd thought of him, he was just intimidating because he was so antisocial. I got to know him pretty well after you'd left, but not until a few weeks afterwards. That morning, all I wanted was to die. I woke up alone, because the nurse was in the other room. I hate waking up alone. I've always hated it, and you know I do. I'd hated waking up alone before that morning, too, but it was that particular circumstance that made it a perfectly terrifying experience for me.

I shot up in bed, not noticing the head rush this caused. The first thing that occurred to me was the memory of what you'd said the afternoon before. I felt my heart deflate for the second time, and started to cry. "Mel.... Mello.... Mel....." I sat upright in the bed, cross-legged. My elbows rested on my knees as I hid my face in my palms, sobbing into my hands. I tried so hard to tell myself that this was just a dream, I tried for so long, but then I just gave up. I settled for meek attempts to convince myself that this was just how my precious, passionate blond boyfriend handled L's passing.

I bawled shamelessly for what must have been an hour. The nurse came in once or twice to check on me, but she knew I needed privacy. I only wanted you to come in the medical wing, run to me and say how you didn't mean it, how you loved me and that everything would be okay. I wanted to fold into your arms, to become part of you again.

I don't remember much after that. I think I fell asleep again. The nurse must have told me I was okay to leave, as long as I was careful. I remember her telling me that my ankle was sprained; I had pulled a ligament in my arm, and I had broken my nose—not to mention there were cuts littered all over my body. I was given crutches, even though I could stand and limp. Actually it was only one crutch, since I couldn't use my left arm.

Nonetheless, I left the sickbay and hobbled off awkwardly on my crutch and good leg. I made for the hallway that had both yours and my rooms. I went past my room and limped towards yours. To my surprise, the door was open. There was no noise coming from your room like there was usually when the door was ajar.

I pushed the door all the way open and my eyes widened at what I saw. Your room was a complete disaster. The bed was anything but made, the comforter completely missing and the sheets tangled and half-undone. There were drawers open in your dresser, some open completely and some half shut. There were clothes littered all over the floor, strewn about as if someone had packed in a hurry. The closet door stood wide open, clothes and hangers in piles at the bottom of the closet floor. Your duffel bag was nowhere to be found.

If I'd thought my little teenage heart was broken the night before, I had no idea what happened to it then. All I knew was that you were gone, and there was no hope of following you. My heart wasn't even dead in my chest anymore. There wasn't even a butchered heart in my ribcage by then. There was a gruesome hole that ripped all the way through where my heart should have been. There was a cylinder of me missing. I was hollow there. I'm amazed I didn't become catatonic.

Instead, I clung to whatever trace of you was left. I jumped onto your bed and curled up, ignoring the pain in my ankle. I held your sheets close to me, bringing your pillow to my face to smell it. There you were. That distinct smell of strawberries made me smile, forgetting my pain. "You never really left me, did you, Mel? You're still here. I love you."

But the silence brought me back to reality in a harsh jerk.

I screamed and cried, ripping your sheets and throwing your things. I smelled everything you owned before destroying it. When I found a glass that was half empty with water, I sucked on the taste of you from the rim before hurling it towards a wall. It smashed into many pieces, but the pieces stayed in one little area; I had no reason to worry about cutting my feet.

But I didn't worry about that.

The only thing I cared about was you. One would think I was furious with you, that I was doing these things because I was angry. Oh, no. I was grieving. Every part of me ached for your touch, to see you smile, to run my fingers through your hair. Every inch of flesh that was attached to my bones was screaming for me to make this need stop, to free myself. I didn't want to need you anymore. I didn't want to live without you, but it was more than that. I didn't want to live with this pain, the hollowness in my chest and the agony in my body. I didn't want to live with the pain that your absence brought, because I knew it would never end until I was with you again, and you'd never come back to Wammy's.

You were better off without me, or so I thought. So I figured that you'd be even better off with me gone not only from your side, but from the face of the earth. I somehow got it into my mind that you hated me just like you said. I believed it then. Before, I didn't dare to dwell on the honesty or dishonesty of your words; I assumed you needed time alone and I would give you that time. But lying on the floor of your old room in Wammy's House, gasping and breathing shallowly because I had no tears left, I believed you. I believed that you hated me, that you never wanted to see me again.

All I wanted was to make you happy. Even then, when I thought that you really didn't love me, I still loved you. I wanted to make you happy. And if my death made you happy, then I would grant you that without a second thought. Ignoring the throbbing in my left ankle, I crawled over to the pile of broken glass. Taking one of the pieces in my hand, I stared at its sharp edge. I took a deep breath. You were gone. Gone forever. What use was I without you? What did life hold without you and your gorgeous blond hair, your sweet words, your passionate arguments with teachers? Without your hotheaded, angry, ferocious, funny, caring, loving self, how could I live? You'd disappeared, Mel. You'd vanished from my life and it made me hurt more than anything. I was going to end it, end it permanently.

For you.

"Please, love me," I whispered as I brought the glass to my wrist.

Then I felt something hard and plastic hit my head. I toppled to the side, the glass shard just barely nicking my palm, as a foot connected with my side. Hoping that it was you who was hurting me, I looked up, but my eyes only met a mass of white. I made out a mop of white, fluffy hair, white pajamas, and pale skin. The only real color that the white thing held was its deep, cold grey eyes.

"Near?"

He was holding a plastic robot toy in his hand, and he looked flustered and WAY out of his comfort zone. He'd kicked and hit me, what could you expect from a guy who never even spoke to other people and then up and hurt someone that was the closest to a friend he had?

"H-hello." He was very anxious. He was almost trembling. Of course, I wasn't surprised that the best he could manage out of his mouth was a "Hello".

I looked up at the snowy boy before me. I scowled. "Let me go, Near. I want to do this."

"But hurting yourself solves nothing, Matt." His cool, emotionless gaze set back into place and he sank to the floor to sit in his position that was oh-so like L's way of sitting. He brought a hand up next to his ear, twirling hair intently around his fingers.

"You wouldn't understand, Near, this is people stuff. You know, feelings and all that junk? Well, I love Mello to death and I wouldn't ever do anything to hurt him. My being alive is annoying him, so I have to end it. You wouldn't understand." I shot him a glare.

Near paused and sighed, averting his eyes. "I suppose you are correct. I would not understand. Such things are beyond me. They always have been."

I would have apologized to him if not for the agony I was going through, inside and out. Instead I just turned away in shame. I did know that what I said was wrong, and I knew it was cruel, but I didn't want help. I only wanted my beautiful blonde boyfriend to return to me.

"Matt, please do not use death as an excuse to give up on life. You can go on, I know so. It may take a very long time, but giving up is the worst decision you can make at this point." He leaned towards me and his frail, pasty arms slithered around me.

"But I don't want to live anymore," I sniffled, clenching his pajama shirt on my hands. I was too tired from crying and too sluggish from pain to achieve the proper level of shock at the fact that Nate River, ice king, was hugging me. _Hugging _me. My broken body and heart were just too tired to push him away or be surprised like I should. Instead, I just leaned into Near and buried my head in the crook of his neck.

We stayed like that for a long time, then he pulled away from the hug, leaving me upset. I didn't want to be alone, so I looked up at him in frustration, but he extended a hand to me after standing up. I grabbed onto his wrist and he helped me up. Slinging my arm over his shoulder and supporting me by his hand on my waist, he sighed. "I am not convinced that I will be able to help you walk effectively. Considering the ratio of our body weight, there is about a 45% chance that I will be able to support your weight for more than around half an hour. Also adding the variables of how little I usually carry, that estimate drops around seven percent. Nonetheless, I will attempt to help you in any way I can."

I was getting a headache from all this analysis. "Near. Relax, man. You're my friend. If you can help me, cool, but if not, don't stress." We began shuffling down the hall.

He looked at me in shock with those grey eyes, stopping short. "Friend?"

"Well, yeah," I murmured, avoiding his eyes. "We've known each other since we were kids, and you're really a decent guy, despite your antisocialness and stuff... so yeah, we're friends. Not anything major, but friends." Looking back on that, I decide that I was under the influence of the painkillers administered to me by the nurse. If I was in any control of myself at that time, I would have fought Near viciously until I got a hold of more glass, then I'd kill myself.

Thank god for drugs.

I slowly healed, the wound in my chest hurting less and less. Of course, you still haunted my dreams and my thoughts, but that's normal even when I'm not depressed. Near and I hung out sometimes, but I didn't get too close to him until around three months after that incident. He liked to follow me around, though. It was kind of endearing. He was always there for me when I needed someone, but I didn't return the favor for a while. I don't know why.

"Matt?" His high-pitched yet still monotonous voice startled me; I hadn't seen him enter the playroom. As usual, a plastic robot was clutched desperately in his hands.

"Yeah, mate?" I sighed and saved my Pokemon game before closing my GameBoy Color. He hated it when I played games while talking to him. I looked up at the white-haired boy calmly, waiting for him to say something. It was six months after my blonde beauty had left me, and I was still on suicide watch just in case.

He walked over to me and sat down in my lap, leaning back against my chest. I sighed happily and was all too content to stroke his fluffy white locks, running my hands along his scalp. While his skin was so sensitive that the slightest touch could bruise him, my hands were smooth from spending years in gloves, plus pressing down on smooth plastic buttons of games for the majority of my life. Near's hair was like a bunny's fur. It was soft as feathers, light as air. Near took a deep breath and exhaled in what I was too absorbed in my own thoughts to realize as a silent moan. When I looked back on that later, I was unable to not blush embarrasedly.

"Near, is something bothering you?" I slid one arm to hold him against my stomach. We were nothing more than friends, but Near had suffered a tragic shortage in physical contact for his entire life, and the mere thought of a young boy who had never even been hugged broke my heart. Thus, I strived to touch him (platonically, mind you) as much as I could. I just wanted to let him know that he wasn't unloved, that he wasn't a monster. He liked physical contact, and I was happy to give my friend what he wanted.

"Matt, do you love me?" The question was as passive as if he'd asked me what temperature it was outside. His silky, soft hand curled around my hand that was holding his side.

I froze. I did care about him, I cared a hell of a lot about him. But did I love him? I knew that if he left me, too, I would die. I wouldn't need suicide. I'd just die. The life I led would be useless without people to share it with. I would cease to exist. My soul would die if Near left me, and the body cannot live without its mind, so I'd die. I'd just.... wither and depart this life forever. I knew I cared about you enough to die if you left me, but did I love you? I loved you in some ways, but.... what did you mean? "How do you mean love?"

"There are separate types of love?" He cocked his white fluffy head to the side, but didn't turn around.

"Well, yeah," I stammered. "There's friend love, family love, and...." _Mello love,_ I thought. "Husband and wife love," I decided on mumbling.

"Well, do you love me?"

"Of course I do, Near," I said, lowering my face into the white hair so I was mumbling into that scalp. Near smelled so nice. That hair smelled exactly like soap. Soap and fresh baby powder.

"How do you love me?" His words were quiet now, as if he was scared to hear the answer.

"Well, you're my friend. A very, very special friend," I smiled into his head, landing a slight kiss on the crown of his head. No thought of my best friend crossed my mind as I gently caressed Near's hair with my fingertips. "I love you with my very best friend love."

Reconsidering that, I think it's true. You and I, Mello, are far more than friends. You're my best friend, my boyfriend, my true love, my brother, my cousin, my saviour, my world. I think it's fair to tell Near that he holds my most special friend love. I didn't say those things and kiss his head because I forgot you, Mel. I said it and did that because it was true. Near deserved my friendship, and he deserved my touches and kisses. I didn't think of him as anything more than a friend, don't worry about that. I guess that I am just a very touchy-feely person with my close friends. I've always been very anti-social towards anybody else than certain people, but very up-close and personal with those certain people. Those people are, obviously, you and Near.

Three years went by, and while I was nowhere near as depressed as I was before, I was still unhappy when Wammy's sent me off to live on my own. Near still had two more years before his excursion into the world on his eighteenth birthday. Near would actually become L, but that wasn't certain. Things could change. I knew that all too well by then.

I leased a small apartment in Oxford with the money L had left for Near, you, and myself upon our outward bound. Did you ever get those funds, Mel? I doubt it. I moved in with all my games and computers, and got a job as a computer technician. It actually paid really well. I had to go under an alias though, just to be safe and to keep anyone who knew about L or Wammy's at bay. After a few hours of going over possible identities, I finally figured out a name to use.

James Rutherby.

When you and I were little, you refused to play video games with me, because you always lost. So instead, we played an "L Adventure" together. I was James Rutherby, you were Kaleb Moffly, and we were ace detectives. The J in James represented the initial of my last name, Jeevas, while the K in Kaleb represented your last name, Keehl. There would be crimes that we'd solve, and we took turns on who came up with the schemes each time. Eventually, we just asked the other kids or Near to help us out with the mystery itself, seeing as it was boring to solve a crime you made up. Near would play the game with us as well, and once in a while he'd request to be the hero, but he was usually satisfied with just playing with us. As it turned out, we developed other things for James and Kaleb to do and act out. Sometimes we'd create a fantasy roleplay world, and we'd pretend we were knights or something. Up until we started dating, we'd be working together to save the princess, but you ended up saving me (and usually killing Near—you claimed he was "the competition," but I just went along with it. I didn't figure out that Near liked me until way later).

It was always us. Even Near would sometimes get really into it. You never hated him as much as you say, Mello. At least not when we were kids. You and he may have been "rivals," but you included him and let him join our games. You will never cease to surprise me every so often, Mel. Not like you can surprise me anymore. Death sucks. It wouldn't be bad if you were here, but I can't feel you at all. Please, Mel. Please remember me like I'm remembering you.

Moving on, back to my overactive memory and how I found my alias.

I laughed to myself, a hollow laugh that depicted my sorrow. It was so me to linger on things that were dead and gone, I thought to myself at the time. I jumped onto my computer and fabricated everything, from a birth certificate to claiming a recently buried unidentified middle aged couple as my parents. I forged a driver's license and other documents I'd need. I'd sent my application to Oxford months in advance, and needless to say I got in with no hitch. I'm a genius, what can I say? Plus, the minute a college sees the word "Wammy's" on a college application, they just skim over the rest. Wammy's kids are in without a second glance, no exception.

I sighed as my special card laser printer spat out my new ID. James Kevin Rutherby, age eighteen, birthday December 13, 1989. Your birthday, too. "I think I might not be over you yet," I said to myself, taking a long drag on the cancer stick in my mouth. It had been over three years since you'd left me broken inside, and I still loved you. I wondered what you might be doing at least twice an hour, and memories of you were triggered by the smallest things. Everytime I even so much as hear running water, I think of that time on the beach trip. If I smell chocolate, the first thing my mind produces is an image of you grudgingly sharing some of your precious Godiva mint chocolate. Upon the sight of a strawberry, I almost start to cry.

But through all this love, I can't help but despise what you did. I could never bring myself to hate you, I'd die before I hated you, but I hated how you left. I didn't even know if you were alive or not anymore. It hurt so much, Mello. I couldn't find a trace of you anywhere. You were nowhere on the internet, and I was too scared to search your real name for fear of this Kira business. I had followed the Kira case, obviously, but no way was I going to get involved. It hadn't made much progress. There were other forces working on it, but their spyware blocked me from accessing their hard drives to find clues. The only one I knew was working on it was Near, since occasionally he asked me to make programs for his SPK force. We'd meet up in a small café and have a chat after I gave him my prototype. It was actually pretty nice.

I had just hung up the phone with the "Oxford Police Squad Supervisor" as he called himself (with generous amounts of pride) about my "parents," when a knock on my door startled me. I frowned, looking at the clock. It was past ten at night. Who would want to see me? Near never went to my flat, he made a point of that to me—said he couldn't risk my safety—and I had no friends, seeing as it was the middle of August and my college classes didn't start yet. Maybe it was a neighbor? I put my goggles over my eyes and put out my cigarette in the ashtray on my desk. Standing up, I ran a hand through my hair and looked through the peephole, but I couldn't see anything. There was only black. Maybe I accidentally put something over it? I opened the door just enough to see outside, and my eyes went wide. I could feel my breathing and my body freeze. I was paralyzed.

"Mel?!" I blinked once, trying to dispel the illusion. "No, this can't be real, you're a figment of my imagination.... I'm really crazy! I'm insane!" I began to shut my door, but you shoved a foot into the door, looking at me with an appalled expression. Your lip twitched in what I think must have been disgust, and you raised one eyebrow.

"Mail Jeevas, calm the fuck down."

"His language is even worse in my mind," I mumbled, frantically looking for a way to dispel the mirage. "I'm dreaming. This is just a dream."

You then kicked the door open and stared down at me. I felt my light breathing catch in my chest. You grabbed my chin and looked into my eyes with those captivating blue eyes. You then leaned down and violently kissed me, biting down on my bottom lip brutally. You ran your tongue along my own and held my mouth open with the hand on my jaw. Then you pulled away and severed the string of saliva that connected our mouths by brushing a gloved finger through the line. You then smirked at me, your eyes overflowing with confidence. "Can a hallucination do _that,_ Matty?"

I then became aware of the situation. Mello, Mihael Keehl, was in my apartment. Mello, the boy who had ripped my heart into pieces and then left without a note. Mello, the boy who took my virginity with everything he could give in return. Mello, the only one who had ever taken hold of my heart. Mello, my one. Mello, my only. Mello, my Mello. Mello. That Mello? Yeah, that Mello. Where? In my apartment. It had taken me three years to achieve what little of what Near and I called "Operation Heal Matt," meaning "Forget Mello NOW." Three years to take at maximum six baby steps towards happiness, three painful years of depression and tears and comfort from my favorite albino to try and forget you, and then you had to go and ruin it all. Mello was in my apartment. My best friend, my love, my heartbreak, my life. He came back.

FML. FML, FML, F MY LIFE.

I stared at you for a moment before I felt tears at my eyes. "M-Mello...." I wanted to run to you and bury myself in your arms, hide away from the world for ever and all time. I also wanted to hurt you. I wanted to hurt you like you'd hurt me. I wanted to kiss your soft, gentle lips, but also I felt a need to slap your gorgeous cheek. I needed to be with you once more, but I couldn't live with the pain of losing you again. I ended up just standing there awkwardly. "Why are you h-here?!"

You looked dumbfounded, but it was far more graceful. More like a polite confusion. "Excuse me?"

"Why. WHY?! Why do you have to be here?! What do you want?!" I tried to love you then, but I needed to know why you felt the urge to ruin all my hard work. I have to admit, being all lovey-dovey was tough when I couldn't decide whether to fall into your arms or to kill you for hurting me so much and then coming back all of a sudden.

"Matty, what—"

"STOP with the NICKNAME! How can you possibly think that after what you did back then, after what it did to me.... how can you even begin to IMAGINE that you could just come back here as if the past three years haven't been more painful than anything in the world?! How does someone have that much nerve?! Do you think I'll just be your princess and jump onto your horse so we can ride away into the castle?! I'm not some damsel in distress, Mello!" I felt tears running down my cheek, but I didn't care at all. "I just started putting the pieces back together, Mello! Do you have any idea, any CLUE how much you hurt me?! Can you even start to fathom how much I wanted to just die?! I just recently started putting the pieces back together, Mihael. How dare you, how DARE you think you can just stroll back into my life!"

You looked shocked now. "Matt...."

"Mello, do you remember what you fucking said to me?! DO YOU?!" Interrupting you viciously, I screamed in your face.

You bit your lip, your eyes suddenly drowning in what could only be guilt and sorrow, and the sting of shame. "I...."

"You told me you hated me. You said what we had wasn't real and it never was. You told me to stay away from you. You _hit _me. You told me that I was nothing to you. Do you remember?!" I glared into your eyes with fury, cutting you off again. "Well?!" I grabbed your hair, forcing you to look at me. "YOU LOOK INTO MY FUCKING EYES AND YOU TELL ME YOU REMEMBER!!"

"I remember!" You screamed at me, clawing at the hand that fisted your hair tightly. "I remember!"

"Do you have any idea how many nights I cried for you?! Do you know what I felt when I ran from you? Do you know how many times I fought my way through the teachers to sleep in your room, just to be around your things?!" I was sobbing now, but my voice was clear with anger, misery, and the ever-present mixture of love and hate.

You began to speak, but stopped yourself. You knew better now than to talk again.

"I fell down the stairs after you said those things to me. I was broken outside as well as inside. I broke my ankle, ripped a muscle in my arm, broke my nose, and I got cuts all over me. The next day, when I woke up, the first thing I did after crying my eyes out was go to your room to say sorry for whatever I'd done. Do you remember your little escapade, your jailbreak?! Well I lay there on your bed, sobbing and smelling your pillow, until I couldn't cry anymore, and then I tore up your room. I smashed glasses, ripped your sheets and clothes, kicked your things, broke everything. Then I tried to kill myself." I glowered at you, my lip quivering as soon as it stopped vocalizing what feelings it could project. "Guess who saved me? Damn well wasn't you. It was Near. NEAR. Yeah, the kid you hate. He was there for me when you weren't. What do you have to gain here, Mello?" I let go of you, finally asking a question that I wanted an answer to.

"You," the reply came, and stopped me in my tracks. You stepped towards me and I stepped back, and I could see the hurt in your eyes from my flinching away from you. "Matt, I know I hurt you. I'm not going to try to understand how much you've been hurt, but I know I hurt you badly. Please, Matt. Please let me fix this. Matt, I know it's so much to ask of you, but please, give me one more chance."

I frowned. "Why should I? I'm going to Oxford University next month. I have a job and money. I'm still in touch with Near, and I'm planning to make lots of friends and live a happy, easy life. Why should I bin everything I've worked so hard to make perfect just because you come rolling in like a good-for-nothing ex-husband?"

You bit your lip, and hung your head. "Matt, I need you back. I can get you a better job, higher pay if you want, anything—"

"Just stop. Who the fuck do you think you are? Do you honestly think you can BRIBE me out of here?! Everything is going to be perfect, and it'll be without you. I'm trying to forget you because you broke my heart, Mello. You're the only one I've ever loved. How do you think I felt when you said you hated me?"

"I think it might have felt something like how I felt when I was saying it. I was only saying those things because I knew you were going to be hurt when I left. I couldn't take you with me because I wanted you to be happy and safe, and I knew I wasn't going to have it easy once I'd left Wammy's. I wanted you to hate me so my leaving would be easier on you," you said, looking at me fiercely.

"Well that turned out just peachy, didn't it?!"

"I just wanted you to have the least pain possible, Matt. All I wanted was for you to be as happy as possible. I didn't want you to love me, baby. I wanted you to be not hurt, or at least hurt in the least way possible. I said those things, but I never meant it, Matt!" You moved closer to me and I was too upset to stop you. You encircled me with your arms and I weakly tried to push you away, but you held tight to me. "Matty, I couldn't stop loving you if I tried. Every day, every minute, every second, I've thought of you. I just wanted you to be happy. I knew it would be better without me. I thought you'd be better off thinking I despised you." You buried your head into the crook of my neck. "I'm so sorry, Matt. I wish I could take it all back, I really do. I love you, Matty. I love you so much, I feel terrible for all I've done to you. Please let me take it back. Please let me make it better. I love you, Mail. Mail, my gorgeous redheaded Mail. My beautiful gamer. My sweet, sweet love. My best friend, my only one. My life. Please. Please, let me fix it. I love you. I love you so much, I love you, Mail. I don't want to live without you anymore."

"What makes you think you can get me back at the drop of a hat, Mel," I whispered, my voice barely able to form words, let alone a questioning tone. It was so nice to be in your arms again, I knew I'd lost, but it was just so hard to give up. I couldn't let you win without a fight, but I knew I'd go with you. The minute you held me in your arms made me melt inside, and I knew that no matter how much time I took to try and re-forget you, I was hopeless now.

You then pulled away from me, your eyes full of pain. "MATT!" Your shout was laced with hurt and sorrow, and you fell to your knees, embracing my legs. "Please, Matt. Please, please don't make me leave. I don't want to leave you again. Please. Please come with me, please! I'm begging you. I beg of you, Mail! Please come with me, please!" You cried against my navel, and then I was sold.

I descended to the floor, holding you tightly to me. "Mello, Mello, my Mello.... I'll come with you, okay? Please don't cry. I lo...." My voice caught in my throat. I couldn't say it. I tried, a few more times, but I just bit my lip and looked at you and all your blonde glory in shame. You just smiled halfheartedly and slid your arms around my neck, pressing your lips gently to my cheek.

"Don't rush. You've spent years trying to forget me, I don't expect you to just say it all at once. I love you and I won't rush anything from you, I promise. I swear to you, I will _never _hurt you again, and I'll make sure you're happy. I'll keep you safe, baby. I give you my word. I'm going to make you a promise right now, Matty. I promise you forever. I am giving you myself, my body and soul, forever. I'll never let you go until my last breath." You held me tight then, and I held you back, crying silently into your hair. Finally, I was back where I belonged.

After ten or so minutes of just holding each other and never wanting to let go for fear of this being a dream, you stood up and pulled me with you. I asked you where we were going from here, and you smirked at me. "I have connections with two mafia organizations. Do you prefer Russia or Italy? Personally, Italy is my favorite, but it's up to you, Matty."

I stared at you. "M-Mafia?! As in, bang-bang-scary-suits-with-guns?! THAT mafia?!"

"Yeah, but don't judge me, baby. Come on, we're benign." You took a step towards the door, your gloved hand extending towards me. It was then that I noticed your attire. Leather. LEATHER. Mello in leather. You were wearing a cropped vest that zippered down the middle, and showed delicious amounts of your midriff. And the pants, oh, the _pants. _Those sinful hide pants that had those amazing strings right in front of your crotch, they gathered in all the right places. God, I didn't get hard at seeing it, but I could feel my jaw dropping.

You frowned. "Matt? Earth to Matt, are you there?" You waved a hand in front of my face, frustrated.

I stifled a nosebleed—this time, my nose was far from broken—and put up a finger. "Hold on," I said hurriedly. "I... I need to get some stuff." I scurried over hastily to my desk. I loaded my computers into their respective laptop cases, took my ID card printer apart into its portable state, and threw some games into a bag as well as packing up my Wii, PS2 and PS3. Fitting all these systems neatly into a suitcase, I smiled as I returned to the entryway, my suitcase rolling behind me. Your eyebrow cocked neatly, a smimrk on your lips.

"Ready?"

I paused. Was I really going to trust you again? Was I going to trust you with my heart, soul and body? I looked into those blue eyes and remembered that this was the boy that just moments before had held me close to his heart and promised me he'd never hurt me again. Finally sighing, I looked at my feet for a moment before meeting your eyes. "Yeah. I'm ready."

You grabbed my hand and gave me a smile, that knowing smile, that almost-smirk that you knew I loved. You pulled me down the hall, into the elevator, and out the front door, leading me to a black Escalade with tinted windows. The driver's door opened and a tall, broad man stepped out. He was wearing dark sunglasses and his smooth bald head reflected the dim light of the streetlamp above us. I froze upon seeing him, and you tugged at my hand fervently. "Matty, this is Bruno. Bruno, this is Matt. Bruno, Matt's bag is full of delicate technology, please take care when loading it."

Before I could open my mouth to insist I could take care of my own suitcase, Bruno had swept it from me. I looked down and gaped at the lack of a handle in my grasp. "Muh.... Mello?!" I looked at you nervously. "It might take me a while to get used to th-this, you know...."

You pulled me into an intimate embrace, your hands on my back and the back of my head, pushing my face into your chest. Somehow, you'd gotten taller than me, only by an inch or two though. Maybe it was the boots. "Baby, I don't care. As long as I have you with me from now on, I don't care. Don't feel pressure to adjust any faster than you want." You nuzzled into the crown of my head. "My beautiful ginger," you murmured.

"Sir, we're all set to take off," came a low voice that I could only guess belonged to Bruno. I stiffened and gently slipped away from you, afraid of others seeing us so intimate. I loved you, but I wasn't ready to go right back and pick up where we left off. I wanted to be with you and to have our relationship back, but it was just too painful to jump right back in so soon. Plus, public affection was more your thing than mine, and Bruno was no doubt closer than I preferred. Seeing as my eyes were faced with the smooth leather that hugged your shoulder, I wasn't in any position to check for the bald man with the single transmitter earphone.

"Very well then, Bruno," came your slick response. "Please get in the car, we'll be in soon." I stepped back and saw you waving Bruno away. The tall man was gone before I could blink. He sure was following orders pretty quickly, I noted. Well, who wouldn't with your commanding tone and badass leather?

I looked at you, realization coming over me. "You..... you're not.... you aren't just a connection with the mafia, are you, Mello? You're.... more than that."

You looked at me and there seemed to be pain in your eyes. "Matty, I... that's true. I'm the leader of the Russian mafia by blood and the leader of the Italian mafia by appointment. I'm sorry for not telling you, but I didn't want you to be scared or intimidated...."

I flailed in your arms, breaking free from you. "MELLO! The first thing you do when we're reunited is you lie to me? Who are you, and where's my best friend, my love?! The Mello I fell in love with would never lie to me. You were worried about if I would be SCARED of you?! Mello, I've seen you at your weakest. You're human just like me. I'm not fucking scared of you because you control the mafia. Yeah, Bruno's a little freaky, but the guy is basically a ninja packed with muscle and guns." I glared at you in fury. "I can't believe you'd lie to me."

You sighed. "I'm sorry, Matty, I really am. If you want, you can turn back. I'll give you your bag back and you can go back to your life without me, with Near and college and games. Do you want to leave?"

I stopped short in the middle of an almost-comeback. I knew for a fact that if you left again, I'd really lose you forever. I needed you, even though I tried to forget you. In the back of my mind for this whole time, I'd hoped and wished that you'd come back. I'd tried to forget you, but it was no use trying to stop loving you. If I let you go again, all that would fall to pieces once more. I'd have to start over, and I didn't think I had the strength to do it all over again. I wanted you back, and I knew you'd be gone for real if I let you leave.

"No. No, Mello. Stay with me, please. Don't.... leave again. Please." I fell into your arms again, shaking my head. "I... I'm just not used to being with you again. I'm sorry. Don't make me go, Mello. Don't let me go. Never let me go again." I hid my face in your neck, holding your arms tightly. I loved you too much. I loved you far too much to even think of letting you go again. It almost physically hurt me to think about living without you for even one more day.

You didn't struggle against my grip to hug me close. You just stood there and let me hold you, restrain you. It was the first time you'd ever let me have power over you, and I felt excited but confused at the same time. Were you not resisting because you wanted me to feel comfortable? Was it because you wanted to compensate what you'd done, even in this miniscule action? Were you trying to show me that you'd changed?

Or did you just want me to hold you?

Needless to say, I went with you. We got into the intimidating black car and I don't think I'd ever been around such luxury in my life. The seats were beige leather, with black leather edges. There was a small bar in the left door, with several brands of vodka, rum and beer. In the back of the large Cadillac car, there were two armchair-type seats, then in the back there was a single couch seat. There was a privacy screen in use, so whatever conversation we had would fall on our ears and ours only. I had never seen so much wealth in one place. "Mello," I hissed, "What in L's name have you been DOING?!"

"Aw, Matty, don't ruin my party," you whispered, bringing a finger under my chin. You pulled my face up to meet my eyes with those tantalizing aqua orbs you knew I loved. "Just have fun, baby. I want this to be our restart. I want you to forget our game over." You coined one of my favorite phrases from our Wammy's days. "I brought you a gift, you know."

"Oh, dear. Here it comes," I said sarcastically. I looked over at you, smirking. "Can you show me?" I leaned over into you. Neither of us bothered with seat belts. As long as we were together, no seat belt would restrain us from hugging and holding each other. Not now that we were back in each others' lives.

"No, I think I'll keep it," you countered evilly, your blue eyes shining. You grinned at me and placed a light kiss on my cheek, then pulled out a GameStop bag from a compartment in the door. "Here."

Looking inside, I saw a beautiful thing. It was a DS Lite. I looked at you and said soberly, "Mihael Keehl, I love you." I launched myself towards you, smiling and laughing as I tackled you to the ground. It was just like old times. I towered over you on my hands and knees and you lunged up to kiss me. I let myself be completed by you when you ransacked my cavern with your sinful tongue. I could hardly think, let alone breathe, and you slid your arms around my waist and held me gently as you kissed me.

I fought to recover my respiratory function while holding your body close to mine. Eventually, you broke apart our previously fused-together mouths. Breathing heavily, you looked at me and a wide smirk wiped your face into an intimidating maniacal expression. "Matty," you began, and your caramel tone made me nervous of what was to come, "Get back in your seat. I have another gift for you." Immediately I froze, knowing that you weren't talking about fiscal exchanges or material goods.

Nonetheless, I knew better than to argue with you. I scrambled back into the three-person seat, situating myself in the left windowseat. I looked at you in anticipation as you crawled over on your knees. You placed a hand on each of my knees, a distant smile on your face. You leaned forward to land a kiss on the dark denim that protected the organ that I'd never once touched without thinking of you. I realized then that I hadn't had sex of any kind in years. I'd masturbated, of course, but only a few times. Without you, I couldn't really be in the mood for very long. Until that moment, with you kneeling in front of me and acting more submissive than I'd ever seen, I had no idea how sexually frustrated I really was. I hadn't had sex in three years, and I'd only relieved myself on four or five occasions in those three years.

My pent-up sexual energy churned violently in my stomach. You looked up at me flirtatiously from underneath your eyelashes and I saw flashes of our many physical adventures from our teen years. Your half-lidded eyes forced my unsuspecting (and more than slightly out of practice) member to spring to life. Being inches away from my groin, you noticed the less-than-subtle increase in the tightness of my pants. You smirked up at me teasingly and cooed sexily, "Someone's happy."

"Ah..." I blushed embarrassedly and moved to conceal the source of my shame, but you grabbed my wrists. You looked up at me with wide, beautiful eyes and I was struck dumb. I was unable to muster up the humility that had made me try to stop you mere seconds beforehand. I wanted you, and my half-hard bulge only proved it.

You leaned forwards again and tentatively pressed your lips to the steadily growing lump between my legs. The casual manner which you performed these acts made me even more aroused. I knew for a fact that you'd never given head—I was assuming you were faithful the past three years—and I was just so touched that you were being so brave about it. I lost all rational thought as I felt your tongue dragging up the underside of my bulge, close to the zipper but not close enough to make the cold, sharp metal scrape against my restrained shaft. Your hands slid from their firm grip on my wrists to gently fold around my hipbones. You looked up at me for a split second before diving your face close to my groin. I heard a zipper and looked down to realize you were freeing my almost-boner from my jeans with your teeth.

After securely removing the obstacle of my fly, your warm hands tugged my jeans down to gather around my ankles. You smiled seductively at me and danced your fingers along the waistband of my boxers, not once breaking eye contact. I bit my lip, letting out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding through my nose. I didn't trust myself not to wail from how much you were affecting me. You leaned back onto your knees again, bringing your eye level back to my bulge. Now my weeping erection was only guarded by a pair of Mario boxers. Tearing said boxers off, you growled. It was a low, sexual sound, and I don't think you even knew you made the sound. I saw you pause for a split second, but you went back to work almost immediately. You rested your palms on the insides of my thighs, spreading my legs and scooting closer to me anxiously.

You laid a fleeting kiss on my upper right thigh. I hissed quietly, fisting my hand tightly and pressing it into the seat. I didn't want to scare you by grabbing your hair. Fumbling for something to grasp with my other hand, I blindly found a cupholder. I held tightly onto the cylindrical cavity, breathing heavily and quickly.

Humming contentedly, you trailed a line of light kisses around my thigh, getting closer to the throbbing flesh that screamed for relief. I gasped and panted, not daring to ask you to hurry for fear of ruining this precious moment. My toes curled in the wild need, anticipation and arousal I felt. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to get a grip on my self control, but then I felt hot breath on the tip of my pulsating friend and I released a breathy whimper from my lips.

Without a second's hesitation, you went down on me. I cried out loudly as I felt the hot, tight heat surrounding my nether regions. I couldn't contain a moan as you ran your tongue on the underside of my pulsing length. You went as far as you could go, immersing my shaft into your mouth and the start of your throat, before pulling back to lavish attention on my tip, wrapping your lips around the quivering head and licking it earnestly. I knew I wouldn't last very long, so I just relaxed as much as your sucking would allow and let nature take its course.

The suckling noises coming from my lap were enough to drive me crazy, and I tossed my head back, gasping for air. You were so damn good at this, I thought to myself silently. Who knew this was your first time sucking cock? You made me so hot and heavy, I could hardly breathe, let alone think. I felt a finger touch my entrance through my pants and I screamed until I was hoarse. "MELLO!! AHHHH!" I fell forward, my torso and head losing support as I felt heat pooling in a place I hadn't felt anything in for so long.... too long.

That night, at 10:37 pm, I gasped and whined hoarsely while leaking my seed into your mouth. I don't remember if you swallowed or not, because I was too exhausted to stay awake. The emotional and physical strain just hurled itself onto my unsuspecting body and my eyes closed almost instantaneously.

Did I tell you enough, Mello? Did I tell you that I loved you enough? Do you remember how we would just lie together in bed, fully clothed and absolutely silent? I remember. I remember how, while I would tell you how much I needed you at every free moment, I would just hold you and be held by you. Not one word needed to be said during those moments. We could just look at each other and before we knew what we were doing, we'd notice small smiles spreading across our lips. I remember every moment like that. Sometimes we'd lie there for ten minutes, sometimes for an hour.

I wish we'd had more time. I wish I could see you happy more than I did. You weren't truly happy most of the time after you'd come to take me back. Of course, you were content and happy to be with me, but you wouldn't smile like you did when we were kids. You were only truly blissful when we were alone. It hurt to see you unhappy, but I knew that I could always make you smile again. You win some, you lose some, you know?

I know that I shouldn't complain, it's almost evil to do so, but I almost wish I'd turned you down that night. If I'd gone on and lived a miserable existence, maybe it'd turn out differently. If I'd just went on to drown in my own depression, maybe I wouldn't be dead right now. Maybe somehow, we'd still be together, just not like we are right now. Not this way. I love you with all my heart, but I wish I'd made you stay at Wammy's that one night. But then again, I should be gracious for the valuable time I've had with you my whole life. All the things we did together, all the places we went, everything—I'm grateful for every moment we had. But I'm even more grateful that our love never once wavered through all those places, people and events.

I remember when we moved in together.

It was a sizeable condo in Sicily. Palermo, to be exact. Of course, seeing as you'd been living in rather considerable wealth for the past few years, you wouldn't settle for any apartment. It had to be beautiful, large and also a nice view was required. God only knows who would have suffered your wrath had the residence been below your (quite specific) standards.

The condo consisted of two bedrooms, a living room, a kitchen/dining area, one bathroom and one master bathroom, and, of course, a balcony overlooking the city. I helped Luigi Favaloro, Mello's left hand man, to pick out the place. I made a Mario reference when I first met him, since Mario's brother is Luigi, but he didn't get it. He glared at me for a while. I don't think he liked me very much.

When I first brought you to our new home, I had already taken care of the unpacking and furniture. I knew what you liked, so I made our condo how I thought you'd like it. You hated working, so I did everything myself—with the help of Luigi. I led you into the private penthouse elevator and nuzzled my nose into your neck affectionately. Once the elevator doors opened, we came not to a hallway of doors, but a small lounging area. The door to our new home was right in front of us. I gave you a key and a piece of paper. Since you were kind of a wanted man everywhere except Italy and Russia, there were two locks on our door. One was a traditional key lock, and another was a passcode-activated electronic lock. On the paper was the number of our passcode. I wanted to make it important, so I programmed it to be the date of our first kiss. May 25, 2002. The code was 52502.

You took the key and paper and after reading the note, you looked up at me with a wide smile on your face. I grinned right back at you and ushered you towards the door, mumbling under my breath. You laughed and unlocked both locks, pulling me inside. I followed you and you explored our new house, not once complaining. You frowned at me with a smile on your face as you saw the second bedroom had been turned into half gaming room, half computer lab. Your expression was that of a person who knew their friend too well to expect they'd do otherwise. You thanked me after looking over every room in the condo, and we just sat on the couch and watched TV for a while in each others' arms.

We made love that night, too. While I used to be the receiving one in our relationship, you insisted that I let you ride me. You said you wanted to belong to me the way I belonged to you. Honestly, I liked being dominant as well as submissive, but by then I was absolutely sure you were switching our roles as an indirect (and possibly subconscious) way of apologizing for how you'd hurt me in the past. Of course, from then on there were no given roles in our sexual life. It was more touch-and-go than "seme and uke."

We were together. Nothing could bring us apart. We were joined at the hip and it seemed we couldn't be ripped away from each other. We were a duo, we were invincible. We were Matt and Mello. I was happier than I'd been in my entire life. I lived with you, worked with you, and was around you every moment of the day. If anything, it was exhilarating just to be alive.

But all things must end at one point. Unfortunately, all things include not only bad things but good things. And our lives were pretty darn good at that point. The Kira case was your prime concern, and as much as I tried to think otherwise, sometimes I felt as though I was of far less significance than beating Near. I knew you loved me, but it was just too much sometimes to have you obsessing over that damned Japanese case and leaving me lonely and nothing short of depressed. Of course, I cared too much about you to not help in some way, so I let you hire me as a hacker. I gathered information that you couldn't access easily, I made programs, I found things, and I tried to be cheerful about it. But inside, all I wanted was for you to focus on me.

Of course, you focused on me, but I'm selfish, I'm not going to lie. I wanted you all to myself, Mello. I can't say that enough. I've always wanted to own you in every way, to contain you and make you mine forever. I've always wanted you to belong to me and me alone, and even though I've always known you already belong to me, it hurt me deeply to see you concentrating only on Near and the stupid Kira case and not me, who actually needed you. Me, who you could touch and talk to. Me, who needed your embrace, who needed to feel that you still cared.

Maybe, thinking back on that, you were so intent on beating Near because you wanted to prove that you were more important to me. Knowing you, this is probably right on the money. You wanted to prove to both Near and me that you were better, that you were the one who deserved me.

I wish I'd studied harder in school. I wish I'd talked to Near more. I wish I'd told Near how I think I may have felt about him. I wish I smoked less. I wish I wasn't addicted to nicotine.

I wish we had more time.

I remember the evening of that godforsaken stupid plan of yours to kidnap that Takada bitch.

"Matty," you whispered to me in the darkness of the living room. "It's time now, baby. We need to go."

I knew that this was our last moment. I started crying, unable to stop. "Mello, we can turn back..... we can have the happy ending we know we want...." I grabbed your arms tightly, and noticed that small whines and gasps were erupting from your pink lips as well. You were crying too.

"Matty, you know we can't. We're the rebels, the freedom fighters. We can't run now. They'd find us, Matt."

"We can go far, far away. Please." I buried my head into your chest, trying to hear that heartbeat that I strived to keep intact.

"Matty, you can go. If you want, you can take your life and go. I don't want you to die for me, baby."

"No!" My voice was firm, yet still filled with raw horror. "If we don't run away together, I won't ever let you go through with this alone. I won't go on if you leave me. It's together or nothing, Mello. Melly, my beautiful Mihael...." I stroked your face softly.

"I knew you'd say that." Your smile was obvious, but also was your tragic demeanor. You stood up and went to the light switch, turning on the lights. I looked at your face and your eyes were red and puffy. I ran to you, falling into your arms. You pressed your mouth to mine and I moved my lips against yours, passionately kissing you with as much power as I could muster. "I love you," you said against my mouth. "I love you!" You pulled away and held me close.

I nodded, stopping my tearflow, and held you to me just as tightly as you held me. "I love you too, Melly. I love you, Mihael. Kaleb, Mello, Mihael.... my beautiful, flawless love."

You parted from me and ran form the door, whispering a final "I love you." Instead of following you, I understood why you did so. If you hadn't left then, we never would have parted. Ignoring my common sense, I ran out the door and grabbed your wrist. You turned around to look at me, and I smiled a broken smile.

"Knock 'em dead."

**Review if it made you cry, please. I want to know how my writing affects y'all emotionally.**

**Any requests? Suggestions? Spelling errors? Concrit is appreciated! **

**ABOUT MY SPELLING! Some of you have mentioned that for the hair colors of light and dark are BLONDE for females and BLOND for males, and BRUNETTE for females and BRUNET for males. I do NOT follow this rule because I absolutely detest how the word BRUNET sounds and looks. And I learned BLONDE, and BLOND is okay but I spell it BLONDE for both males and females. I'm using caps lock to show my spelling, I'm not mad or anything. :D. I got a comment on another story about this and I was like "oh." I didn't know it was grammatically incorrect, but I don't care enough to fix it.... so sorry loves.**

**ALSO. I realize that Matt and Mello's birthdays are very close together, but I made Matt half a year younger than Mello because I felt like it. Matt's birthday is Feb 1, 1990, and Mello's is Dec. 13, 1989. I took liberties with when they died too, and how long the Kira case took, and also when Mello ran away from Wammy's. If you noticed, you get a cookie! **

**Poor Near.... Matt doesn't return his feelings... there might be a spinoff of this where Matt falls for Near during the time that Mello's gone and Near's such a good friend to little Matty. Then I can give you all a Mello-tantrum. Fun!**

**Playlist while reading:**

**I Will Follow You Into the Dark – Death Cab For Cutie**

**Remembering Sunday – All Time Low**

**Chicago – Sufjan Stevens**

**Casimir Pulaski Day – Sufjan Stevens (this one I played especially during the scene when Mel found out L died)**

**John Wayne Gacy, Jr – Sufjan Stevens**

**Chasing Pavements – Adele **

**How I Could Just Kill a Man – Charlotte Sometimes**

**Raindrops – Regina Spektor (this song is so MelloxMatt)**

**On the Radio – Regina Spektor**

**Laughing With – Regina Spektor (Sad sad sad, VERY sad)**

**The Call – Regina Spektor**

**Howl's Moving Castle Theme – Joe Hisaishi (Amazing. Purely profound. I love this song too much)**

**Smother Me – The Used**

**BoysBoysBoys – Lady Gaga**

**Better In Time – Leona Lewis**

**Give Me A Sign – Breaking Benjamin (this is such a sad song, and it really makes me think of Mello and Matt. I think that this song really is a soundtrack to this story, above all others on this list, besides Into the Dark by DCFC. It's just such a beautiful song.)**

**A Perfect Sonnet – Bright Eyes**

**First Day of My Life – Bright Eyes**

**Bowl of Oranges – Bright Eyes**

**Waste of Paint – Bright Eyes**

**At the Bottom of Everything – Bright Eyes**

**A Scale, a Mirror, and Those Indifferent Clocks – Bright Eyes**

**Just Keep Breathing – Automatic Loveletter**


	2. Alternative Ending

I wish we had more time.

I remember the evening of that godforsaken stupid plan of yours to kidnap that Takada bitch.

It was a long afternoon of passionate lovemaking. You just wouldn't let up, and I couldn't stop crying. But it wasn't because you were hurting me, Mello. I cried and cried like a little girl because I knew that you were only doing such things to my body because we both knew it was our last time together in such intimate connection. You went at me over and over again, whimpering those three words I adored so much with every breath you could force into words. You didn't like to say "I love you" as much as I did; you were not big on the expressing emotions thing. But for hours, all you did was stare into my eyes and tell me in quivering gasps that you loved me; that you'd always loved me and you always would.

Then, evening came. 8:34pm. We were sitting in the living room with the lights turned off. There was the faint light from the city around us. Tokyo. _Damn Japanese, they caused all this. It's all their fucking fault, them and that stupid Kira asshole, _I'd thought to myself in the back of my mind. I was sitting next to you on the couch. We weren't hugging or leaning on one another, just sitting. Of course, we sat close together, but it wasn't the time to get feely.

The room was silent. There was slight noise from below us and outside, but for some reason I couldn't hear it. It was a silence worthy of the emptiest field. It was pure stillness. This silence was disconcerting instead of calm peacefulness, though. It was tense and frightening.

You sighed, and a feeling of immense fear overcame me. You hadn't moved for a whole hour, and your near silent breaths had been barely noticeable. I'd only moved to smoke a half of a pack of cigarettes. The sitting still had wreaked havoc on my twitchy, jittery mind. The mere sound of a quiet sigh coming from you was so much louder to me than it usually would have been. This seemingly small change in the mood of the room alone told me that it was time. The realization of what we were going to do washed over me faster than a tidal wave. I felt a shudder travel from the back of my neck down all over my body, sending goosebumps to my skin.

You turned to me and looked into my eyes. I felt my lip quivering. You, too, must have seen this. You held my chin in your grasp, bringing me to a kiss. I threw my arms around your neck, trying to act passive as I kissed you weakly. I couldn't find my real strength, so I just let you dominate me, but I wanted so badly to stay like we'd been. I wanted to forget this whole plan and to go back to Italy with you. I held you close to me, but you pulled away despite this.

"I love you, Mail," you said to me, your beautiful azure orbs flitting back and forth between my bright green eyes.

"I l-love you, Mihael," I whispered, afraid of talking in a normal tone for fear of my voice going into obscene cracking. I was crying already, my tears slowly rolling down my pale cheeks.

"Oh, Mail, don't cry. Please." A sun-kissed hand gently wiped my tears. I leaned into your hand, my own appendage coming up to hold yours. You looked into my eyes and ran your fingers through my hair. "Mail.... Matty. I'm so sorry for dragging you into this...."

"N-no," I protested meekly. I fought back a complete crash into tears as I struggled to keep my voice even. Despite my efforts, I couldn't help my stammering. "I... I don't want you to g-go through with this alo-alone.... I can't let you do it alone." I took a ragged breath, well aware I was seconds away from breaking into uncontrollable sobs. I just let the tears flow, crying my eyes out. You pulled my head onto your shoulder and I managed to whimper inbetween bawling and gasping for air, "Ho-hold me c-close.... Miha-hael.... don't l-l-let me be alone a-anymore. You p-promised, reme-remember? You promised-d you'd always b-be with me..."

I felt a drop of wetness on my head and realized you were crying too. Mello, who screamed in anger at anything and everything; Mello, who brandished a gun at me if I wouldn't go get him some chocolate; _Mihael, _the man I loved with all my heart despite his angry, rebellious, temperamental self, was _crying. _I didn't make any move to comfort you, knowing all too well that if I showed any acknowledgement of your tears you'd never forgive me. I just cried into you, wailing and bawling like the child I hadn't been for years.

After ten minutes of nothing but tears and shuddering breaths, I regained my self control. "Mel.... Mihael.... we c-can... we can turn back..... we can have the happy ending we know we want...."

You shook your head furiously. "No. We have an obligation, Matty. You know we can't. We're the rebels, the freedom fighters. We can't run now." You seemed shocked that I would even think of going back on the plan.

"We can go far, far away. Please." I buried my head into your chest, trying to hear that heartbeat that I strived to keep intact.

I could tell by your trembling limbs that you wanted to run away and live happily ever after as well. I didn't dare to get my hopes up, though. I knew you'd never give up on Kira. You mumbled something again

I don't think I need to tell you the rest. The most important memory I have from then on was when you reached for your motorcycle helmet and I grabbed your wrist, having run from my red Camaro to get to you. I'd pressed my mouth against your cheek and smiled at you. I smiled at you, knowing that we'd both be dead within the next few hours. I smiled my purest smile. Even though I knew I was going to die, I was content. I couldn't think of one regret I had. I kissed your other cheek silently and whispered, "Knock 'em dead, Mel."

And with that, I walked over to my crimson '79 Camaro, got in the driver's side, and sped off.

**So here's the story. I rushed through the ending of Knock 'Em Dead, so I made a newer, better ending. Which ending did you like better? Please review!**


End file.
